


but when we cry, we cry together (like it was meant to be)

by RJam9



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bounty Hunting, Din is trying, Father-Son Relationship, Fighting, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I don’t know how to tag send help, Injury, Minor Violence, The Force, but being a dad is hard when you’re a dumbass and your kid has the force, its THERE, sorta - Freeform, the helmet comes off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24823531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RJam9/pseuds/RJam9
Summary: Din really hated bandits. He just wanted to catch his bounty and get back to the kid, not get stabbed.(In which Din gets injured and thinks a bit more than he should.)
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 161





	but when we cry, we cry together (like it was meant to be)

**Author's Note:**

> here we go i guess. i spent alot more time then i should have on this, but we made it. eventually. anyways, these two have such a pure relationship i love it.
> 
> title from “Growing Old on Bleecker Street” by AJR

If anything, bandits were rude.

The planet Din had taken the bounty on was a barren landscape with only a few broad trees and rocks to break the view. The ground was made up of a mix of sand and dirt to make a soft, hard-to-tread on ground. Settlements were few and far between, and often don’t have much room for visitors. If you weren’t there to trade with them, they didn’t want you wasting their resources.

The bounty he was hunting was notorious for slipping out of hunters grip. The last one had given up after the bounty escaped yet again to this bare planet, and already it was becoming one of Dins most difficult jobs to date. He hadn’t found it yet, had exhausted every lead in every village, and was on his way back to the Razor Crest for the night.

Greef had assigned it to him, somewhat because ‘ you’re the best in the parsec, Mando’  but mostly because the other bounty hunters were still a little upset at him for running away with the kid and were already mad at Greef for letting him back in, so the guild master had to give him the harder jobs as to not play favourites anymore then he already appeared to.

(When he meant ‘a little’, what he really meant was that he couldn’t enter any guild territory without getting dirty looks and thinly-veiled death threats.)

He had parked the Crest a little ways away from the small village he had just been in. From the ship, the village was only lights, and from the village the ship looked like a particularly large rock. He left the kid locked inside, as one, it had been tired from the last village they stopped at (it had ran around with the small group of children and he had had a hell of time trying to convince it not to eat a lizard) and two, if he did manage to find the bounty in the village, he would rather have his full attention on it and not have to worry about where kid was and whether it was eating lizards or not.

And, in hindsight, there was actually three reasons, because just as he got close enough to the Crest to make out the details on the side, something tried to stab him in the neck.

He had heard the sound of a dagger being drawn just behind him as he walked, which was not a noise that belonged in the savannah. He whipped around to see a figure cloaked in leathery robes standing behind him, everything expect small beady eyes obscured by fabric.

Before it could react, he instinctively grabbed the blaster hanging on his hip and pulled the trigger. The bandit collapsed on the ground, barley making a sound against soft earth beneath. The dagger fell from its grip and tumbled off into the sand. He guessed that, combined with the soft robes it was wearing, was how it got so close without him hearing, but he still mentally cursed himself for becoming rusty.

Bandits, huh? He had heard whispers of them in the villages, usually from children who eyed him wearily from behind their parents and the elders sitting in the doorways to their homes. Bandits were never good, but they tended to differ from planet to planet. 

He tried to remember what the locals had said. Scavenged the savannah for treasure to trade, always work in groups, the normal things. He recalled the Jawas and frowned, feeling anger rise up inside his chest.

It was then replaced with fear when he realized something.

By the time his brain had fully caught up, he was already sprinting towards the Crest. He jumped up a small dune to see his ship in full, and felt a stab of panic go straight through his heart when he saw at least five bandits all drawing closer to his ship. They must have sent one to take him out while the rest had gone up ahead to scavenge.

“Hey!” He called out. He couldn’t let them get inside, that’s where the kid was —

Luckily (or unluckily depending on how you viewed it), all turned at the sound of his voice. Thinking back to the Jawas, he expected them to all scatter when faced with a very weaponized and very angry Mandalorian. 

No such luck, apparently, because all five turned and sprinted towards him. Growling, he shot two in the chest and watched them tumble back into the sand. One of the remaining three bandits paused, but the other two either didn’t notice or didn’t care and kept running.

Quickly, Din shot at one of approaching bandits, but it had learned from its dead teammates that if you  _dodged_ blasterfire, you had a better chance at surviving. It dove to the ground, the blast soaring over its head, but he didn’t have much time to think about it because the other bandit jumped at him.

Almost stumbling in the sand, he backed up just in time and the bandit tripped on its robe and fell to the ground just where he as been standing, hand still extended with the same type of dagger the early bandit had had. He shot it before it could get up, and turned to face the bandit who had dodged early.

It was up and a bit smarter then it’s companion, as it didn’t try to knock him to the ground. Instead, it swiped at him with its own dagger. Once. Twice. He took a few steps back as it moved forward, staying out of reach. The beskar would protect him from the dagger, but it still made his stomach lurch uncomfortably. 

However, when he lifted his hand to fire, the bandit made they very rushed decision to grab his wrist and squeeze. It had a very strong grip, and his hand opened in surprise. The blaster clattered to the ground. He growled and swung his leg forward. It connected, and the bandit collapsed backwards with a cry of pain.

It landed with thump, and grappled at its knee. It wouldn’t be getting up any time soon, but for good measure, he activated the vibro-knife in his boot and stabbed it in the chest. Messier than he would have liked, but his blaster was right beside its hand and if he reached down to grab it, there was a chance it would momentarily forget its pain and try to grab it before he did.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but there was still a fifth bandit, the one that hadn’t ran at him, so he turned to try and get a scope on it — and it was right behind him, dagger drawn.

His heart skipped a beat, and he went to shoot it, but his hand was empty. Kriff, he had dropped his blaster. The small, one second pause was enough, however, because the fifth bandit stabbed its dagger right into his stomach just under his breastplate.

It took a moment for the pain to register, but once it did, it was overwhelming. He gritted his teeth to suppress a cry of pain. The bandit then pulled the dagger out, making his vision go blurry and the newly-formed wound scream in protest. It was dripping red, which was a very bad sight.

After a moment, he fell to his knees. Mostly because it hurt. A lot. What kind of blade was that? But also because his blaster was now within reach. 

The bandit, seemingly thinking that he was dealt with and would soon bleed out, turned around and went to march back to the Crest. That made anger white out the pain, and he scrambled to get a tight hold on his blaster. 

Within a minute, the last bandit was on the ground with a sizzling hole in its back.

However, without the danger, the adrenaline coursing through his veins begin to fizzle out, leaving him tired and pained. He gritted his teeth and holstered his blaster, and let his hand drift up to his side. When he pulled back, his glove was covered in blood. That was a weird sight. That was suppose to be inside his body, not out of it.

He weighed his opinions. He couldn’t stay here surrounded by dead bandits. The sun was already starting to set, and who knew what decided to haunt the landscape at night. As tempting at it was to just sit there and let the ground claim him, his blood was already staining the sand. The village would have a medic, and was a short walk away, but still too long when he was injured. The Crest was closer, and he was pretty sure he had a medical kit lying around somewhere.

He also had the kid, who was probably wondering where he was. He was already late.

With a groan, he pushed himself up. His limbs were having trouble responding, his knees were wobbly, and the movement caused pain to lace up his side and shoot straight into his rib cage. Something warm and wet soaked through his shirt and trickled down his side, which made him grimace, so he pressed his palm to the wound to hopefully stop the bleeding a little bit. His glove was already stained, anyway.

Biting back a sigh, he started walking.

The sun was dipping below the horizon when he got to the Crest. After typing in the code to open the ramp, he had to pause and lean against the side for a moment when everything spun. He was standing still, it shouldn’t be spinning. Well, he was, technically, spinning, because the planet was. He was getting off track.

As the ramp hit the ground with a ‘thump’, the metal reflecting the dusking purple light and making everything a lot more beautiful than it should be allowed to, he sighed and started climbing. Every step caused his wound to flare, and he bit his tongue until he tasted blood to keep quiet.

Inside, he was greeted with the gentle glow of the overhead bulb and he sighed in relief. Quickly typing the code to close the ramp behind him, he heard an inquisitive chirp from somewhere in the cargo hood.

He looked for the source, and noticed a large green ear and big black eyes staring at him from behind one of the storage crates. He huffed out a laugh and smiled softly despite the pain he was in when the Child toddled into view with a greeting coo that could make a Loth-cat jealous.

“Hey, kid.” He greeted. The kid chirped and lifted its hand in the universal sign of ‘up’, and even though he wanted too, he couldn’t hold it. He gently shuffled around the kid as the entrance to the cargo hold closed, and it chirped again, this time in confusion and worry.

“Not right now.” He said. “I need to do something first.” The pain in his side was lessening now, settling into a dull ache, but it would still need treatment. He had a small medical kit somewhere in the cargo hold, with a needle and thread. He was in no way a medic, but he could do a decent stitch. Hopefully.

There was a thump as the door shut, sealing them off from the barren planet. Content with knowing no one would get in without a fight, he started moving towards where he last thought he had seen the kit. During all various firefights he had been in lately, everything not secured to the walls had shifted, and he hadn’t gotten the chance to come down and organize everything yet.

He found the kit hidden in the back and opened it, grimacing slightly at how disorganized it was inside, too. However, after a moment, he heard a soft coo and the small patter of footsteps following him. Out of the corner of his visor he saw the Child look up at him with wide eyes. Sighing softly, he went to turn and placate it.

However, the movement made pain flare up in his side and he hissed through his teeth at the suddenness. In turn, that made the Child chirp worriedly. The pain in his side was nothing compared to the pain in his heart at the noise. No child should have to sound like that. “I’m okay. I’m fine, it’s alright.”

It gave him a look that seemed to radiate ‘I don’t believe you’. However, he really needed to get his wound stitched, so he slowly stood up, armour clanking, and grabbed the Child by its collar. It squeaked in protest, but his other hand was still trying to hold his blood in. Gently, he set it down on one of the nearby creates. 

“Stay there. I need you to stay there, okay?” He said firmly. Moving to fast made him dizzy, so he squeezed his eyes shut to steady himself. When he opened them, the Childs wide eyes stared up at him and it’s hands were stretched out, making grabby motioning. “Not right now, I’m sorry.” 

With one last stern look he hoped the Child got through his helmet, he turned back tothe now open medkit. Shifting through the contents, he found what he was looking for. A thin, silver needle, and black thread. He would need to clean the wound, and sterilized the needle. One handed. Maybe there were bandages somewhere to stop the bleeding temporarily.

Oh, and he needed to get rid of his shirt.

Carefully, he removed his breastplate so it didn’t get in the way. There was no way to take his shirt off without removing his helmet, and besides, he wasn’t in the mood to remove the rest of his beskar. The fabric around the wound was ripped and shredded, so he slowly removed his hand from his side and peeled away the fabric.

And ... oh. That was very bad.

He was just about to get up and find clean water when he heard a thump and then scrambling. Din turned to see the Child had dropped down from its perch and was now standing behind him. He sighed, the kid chirped and began moving towards him again. 

Before he could stop it, or scold it, or put it back up on the crate, or even react, the Child had already moved to stand by his leg, on the side of his body with the wound. With a small glare, it reached its hand out and clenched his fist. He could only assume what it was trying to do.

“No, no.” With his hand not currently trying to stanch the bleeding, he gently grabbed the Childs hand, stoping it from moving. It chirped in annoyance at its advances being stopped. “You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

He had seen how tired the Child was after it healed Greef back on Nevarro, how exhausted and spent it was. He didn’t want it to waste its energy on him when he was stupid enough to get injured in the first place. 

The Child only chirped again and he let go of its hand. Hoping it got the message, he turned back to preparing his needle. However, not even a second later he felt clawed fingers digging into his thigh just above his armour. Din turned once again to see the Child watching him with a wide, worried eyes, ears drooping and a tilted head.

Its eyes were to young to have that much worry in them. It made him pause for a moment, gears in his brain turning. 

His momentary pause must have been seen as acceptance in the Childs young brain, because it squeaked and began scrambling onto his leg. He dropped his needle on the ground again and grabbed the Child to steady it as it triumphantly balanced on his thigh.

“Kid —“ He started, but he trailed off when the Child pushed past his hand and leaned forward to place its hands right about the wound. He bit back a hiss of a pain as to not disturb the kid, who had now squeezed its eyes shut and face contorted into an expression of concentration (which would have been cute save for the situation.)

The flesh, slowly, began to knit itself together. Oddly enough, it didn’t really hurt. It mostly just felt ... tingly, as if that small portion of his skin had fallen asleep. However, he mostly kept his eyes on the kid, who kept its same position. 

In what could have been minutes or hours, he felt the last pieces of skin heal. Very slowly, the Childs removed its hand from his skin. It wobbled slightly, and for a moment he thought it might stay awake, but then he winced when it’s eyes slipped shut and it pitched forward.

Since his own hand didn’t need to keep his blood inside his body anymore, he grabbed it with both of its hands before its face got smushed against his stomach. With a faint chuckle, he lifted it up, settling it snugly into the crook of his arm. “You wore yourself out there,  _ad’ika_ .”

However, he did have to note it was nice to move without pain in his side. He glanced down at where, a few minutes early, a large wound use to sit. The only thing left was an angry red scar and splatters of dried blood. He would have to shower later (usually he would just clean the blood off with a cloth, conserve the water, but he was also covered in dirt and sweat from his fight), but for now he just sighed.

The kids magic was ... confusing. He had started to ask around, try to pick up any information that might lead him to someone like the kid. For what he had gathered, and already knew, the magic the kid possessed was like the Force. What the  _Jetii_ were able to control.

Much information had been lost during the Great Purge, which he silently cursed. If the Tribe still had it all, this would all be much easier.

However, Din was brought back to the present by the Child mummering in its sleep and shifting unconsciously closer to his chest. He realized this was the first time he had held the kid without his breastplate. The anger at the past simmered out and died when he looked down at the small being in his arms. Huffing out a laugh, he gently tipped his head forward to rest his helmet against the sleeping child’s forehead.

It gave him an idea.

He pulled back at the thought. He hadn’t — Mandalorians weren’t suppose to take their helmets off in front of any living creature, save for their  _aliit_.  The last time a sentient thing had seen him bare-faced was IG-11, and he felt his body go cold at the thought of the dead droid. However, the Armour had said the Child was now part of his clan. And it WAS asleep ...

Slowly, before he could back down, he lifted his free arm and wrapped his hand around the rim of his helmet. He took a deep breath, pushing back the worried thoughts in his mind, and lifted the helmet off his head, baring his face to the world. 

It took him a moment to adjust to everything around him without the filters of his helmet. The Crest was dim and quiet, save for his own breathing not covered by the helmets module. He blinked to let his eyes get use to it as the kid kept sleeping, its breathing soft and calming.

It was peaceful. He placed his helmet on the ground beside him, beside the still open medic kit, and the kid kept sleeping. He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse that it was. Hesitantly, he glanced at his helmet. The t-visor stared up at him, dark and foreboding. He tore his eyes away.

The kid kept sleeping.

Exhaling a stale breath, the sound harsh in the quiet, he wrapped both his arms around the kid to cradle it closer. Mummering softly, it shuffled nearer to his bare chest, it’s one clawed hand coming up to lazily grip his shirt just above his heart, unconsciously reaching out to him.

It made his breath hitch and ...  _something_ clawed its way up his throat, threatening to choke him. Once again, his brain was coming up with weird ideas and his body responded before he could really think them through. Slowly, very very slowly, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the child’s forehead.

It was soft and warm and everything he wasn’t, but Din felt the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile and heard himself chuckle softly if a bit nervously when the kid shuffled and wrinkled its nose up in its sleep. However, it showed no signs of waking, and settled back against his chest, sighing quietly.

In the morning, he would have to go out again to find the bounty — get the credits to support the child — and leave the kid alone again. At least this time he would know to park closer to the villages, bandits be damned. But for now, it was just him and his kid in their home in a faux serenity.

Very, very, very slowly, he leaned his bare forehead against his kids. It kept sleeping, the planet kept moving, and maybe he could get use to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Ad’ika - kid  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Aliit - Family
> 
> maybe he’ll take his helmet off in front of the kid when it’s awake one day. baby steps. bc you know, taking the helmet off is SYMBLOISM™️
> 
> please point out any grammar/spelling mistakes you see bc i suck at editing. thanks for reading anyhow.


End file.
